Zachary

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Cooking stuff (temporarily inactive...)

 
I joined my company's golf league. What am I, crazy?

No.

My theory was, if I forced myself to play, I'd get over this fear of playing with strangers. Any time I get paired up with a couple of strangers, I get nervous and play terrible, which makes me more nervous. It's a spiraling problem. There's so much unsaid pressure to "keep up"! And we always get a warning from the golf ranger to pick up the pace. How can I pick up the pace when I keep hitting from out of the trees??!!

So I've played twice now with the league, minus the 36 holes I had to play on my own to establish a handicap (which is incredibly high - 29). The first time I played, I didn't do so well. Sometimes I can really knock the heck out of the ball, and it feels good. Last time all I did was hit the top of the ball, walk 20 yards, hit the top of the ball, walk 20 yards... After 9 strokes you have to pick up the ball and record a "X-10", which in short means you suck. I had to do that three times. Believe me, after 9 strokes you want to pick up the ball - you want it to be over. But the weather was perfect and the course was nice, so my mood wasn't 00% spoiled.

Last week, we played again. I was much more relaxed this time. I didn't get "my swing" back, but there was some resemblance. I had a pretty nice game. 1 over par (with my handicap of course!) And I beat the other guy on 6 of 9 holes, allowing my team to win by 1! Hey, I'm cool! The three memorable moments...

1) The big pompous grass bush, standing in the middle of the fairway all by itself, ate my ball, costing me TWO strokes. I got an X-10 on that hole...
2) At tee off, I accidentally tapped my ball off the tee. Without picking my head up, the guys on the side said "that's one!" See - anytime you touch the ball, intentional or not, it's a stroke. *sigh* AND you play the ball where it lies. I didn't tee it up again.
3) I had a classic sand trap moment where I felt like sport Goofy. A wonderful hit followed up by a sand storm. One whiff, one hit to the other side of the trap, one hit into the lip, and finally, the last hit popping it out on the ledge - 4 strokes later... Ugh.

We played at a golf course in a (rich) retirement community. In fact, the same community where J.T. and I got married. I love living so close to the site. It's sentimental. I quickly reminisce seeing our little rose garden, where I could hardly get any words out for fear of crying. Anyway, like I said, rich. The signs along the road say "this is a golf cart community". They aren't kidding! I parked and noticed a whole line of personally owned golf carts - all nicer than my car! Oh, to retire and drive around in your own golf cart. Now that's a goal in life!
posted by hbt at 9:02 AM